


Breathe

by figure-skating-prompts (orphan_account)



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 10:28:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15046898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/figure-skating-prompts
Summary: Originally posted on Tumblr. Prompt: Nathan trying to woo Shoma and Shoma just being oblivious to it."Just breathe, Nathan told himself. This wouldn’t be that bad. It definitely couldn’t be that painful to just–just take a chance and say something, and what could go wrong?Everything, apparently."





	Breathe

Just breathe, Nathan told himself. This wouldn’t be that bad. It definitely couldn’t be that painful to just–just take a chance and say something, and what could go wrong?

Everything, apparently.

Shoma was sitting beside Boyang, discussing something that Nathan wasn’t sure about, but it didn’t really matter. He just needed to play it cool and be calm and not make a mess of things. He began to walk, knowing very well that Adam and Alex and Maia and Mirai and–well, everyone–everyone was watching him.

Everyone watched as he tripped and fell right in front of Shoma.

Okay. He could recover. Nathan pulled himself up, bouncing back into place, hands resting against his hips. “You’d think I was a figure skater, or something, huh?” he chuckled, looking down at Shoma.

“Are you okay?” Shoma asked, eyes wide. Beside him, Boyang was trying his hardest not to laugh. Good-naturedly, of course, and Nathan understood why he found the whole thing funny.

But Nathan shook his head, shrugging. “Me? I’m good. Yeah, I’m fine. Are you okay?” Because it looked like it hurt, when you fell from Heaven, his mind finished. But Nathan was smart enough not to throw out such a cheesy line. Instead, he just looked like an idiot; if he were lucky, everyone might think that he had gotten a concussion from the fall.

“I’m…fine?” Shoma responded, voice laced with uncertainty.

“Great. Then everyone’s good!” Now it was the time for a cheesy pick-up line, right? “So, you come here often?”

This time, Boyang did laugh, and Shoma blinked, glancing around. “Yes? It’s a…show–”

“Mm-hmm,” Nathan responded, and he could hear Adam whispered something about “not my baby” in the background. This was quickly turning into the worst day of his life, and he wasn’t sure how he could even begin to recover from what was going wrong. This was especially true because he couldn’t seem to stop himself from talking. “Yeah, me, too.”

Yes, Nathan Chen was making an idiot of himself, but he was only doing that so that he could impress Shoma. Shoma, who was older and smaller and more collected and so intense. His features were soft, and he was so good at feeling his program music down to the tips of his fingers. He was elegant and fast, strong but sensitive.

Essentially, he was the perfect person that Nathan couldn’t seem to keep his cool around. But instead of opting to lurk around and never say anything, he somehow thought that it was a better idea to try to talk to Shoma, to impress him.

It was going as well as could be expected.

“Okay, well, I’m going to see you later, probably. Need to go…ice myself,” he finished lamely, hurrying off. He really wasn’t injured, save for his ego, but he needed to get away and regroup.

He left, and Maia led the group to follow him. “Are you okay?” she whispered, and he nodded quickly.

“I’ve just–I need to make a new plan. I’m good at that.”

“No, you’re not,” Vincent countered, and Adam put his hands on the young man’s shoulders.

“Let’s not kick him while he’s down.”

***

“What was that about?” Satoko asked, holding her hands in front of her as she and Shoma walked back to their rooms. He seemed deep in thought about something, but she thought it was at least worth a shot to ask him. “He seemed so nervous about something.”

“He might have hit his head when he fell. Do you think he got a concussion?” Wakaba added, and Shoma shook his head, pace quickening. The two young women matched his speed, neither entirely willing to let the conversation drop. Yet, they were aware that Shoma wasn’t keen on continuing it.

He honestly wasn’t sure what was going on with Nathan. He seemed different today, which was odd, because he was one of the only people that Shoma figured would never lose his cool. He always seemed so constant, so sure of himself, even when things were going wrong.

And now he acted as if he had no clue what was going on, and it seemed as if Shoma had been the cause. He felt a bit guilty, like he had in some way ruined Nathan’s psyche. The problem, was that he didn’t quite know how to address it, or how to go about fixing it.

He supposed that he could try to find Nathan and directly ask what was going on, but Shoma wasn’t sure if that would actually be helpful, or not. If anything, he worried that he might make the young man’s problem even worse.

“Are you ready for practice?” Satoko asked, voice soft.

Glancing over, he nodded. “I think so. We already know all the routines.”

“Do you think Nathan will actually show up?” Wakaba asked, and she shrunk slightly when Shoma sent her an annoyed look. “I was just asking–he looked like a mess today–”

“He’ll show up,” Shoma said. He hoped so, anyway. If Nathan didn’t, then everyone would assume that Shoma had done something to personally hurt him. And maybe he had and just didn’t know about it. He wouldn’t be surprised, anyway.

When the trio did eventually show for practice later, Boyang immediately skated over to Shoma, practically layering himself over the younger man. “I missed you for all the hours you were gone,” he mumbled, grinning when Shoma nudged at him.

“I had to eat.”

“Then, stop…” Boyang let go when he noticed Nathan walk inside the rink, and Shoma sent his friend a confused look.

It didn’t take long for Nathan to make his way over, offering a smile and a wave in greeting. “What’s up?” he asked, settling in with the two. Boyang moved over slightly, and Shoma raised an eyebrow. At least, he figured, Nathan seemed pretty positive, and he didn’t seem particularly eager to rid himself of Shoma yet.

“Not much,” Shoma answered, and he attempted a smile of his own. “You?”

“You know, just the ceiling.” Nathan pointed upward, and Shoma glanced up, seeing nothing.

“Alright.”

He hadn’t noticed when Boyang decided to up and leave, but Shoma suddenly found himself quite alone with Nathan, and he wasn’t yet sure what to think about it. On the one hand, he always found himself enjoying the younger man’s presence. He was talented and smart, and he had such an easy air about him that he was a calming presence (something Shoma genuinely valued in a person). But as of lately, Nathan had been jumpy and nervous, practically sweaty when around Shoma, and it was a bit disconcerting.

But it was also a bit frightening to think that he had done something to push Nathan away. Though Shoma wasn’t eager to admit it, he liked Nathan.

Nathan sighed and ran a hand through his hair. It was curly, and it only got more effortlessly tousled when he touched it.

Well, shoot.

“Listen, I–I’m sorry about earlier,” Nathan began, and Shoma looked over, intently watching. “I guess I just got a bit overzealous, huh?”

“About what?” Shoma began to skate, slowing down so that Nathan could keep pace.

“Nothing.” They clearly weren’t going to have that conversation, and Shoma opted to let the subject drop. If Nathan wanted to spend the day acting like a nervous rabbit, then Shoma wasn’t going to push the issue any farther. But Nathan did say, “You had a really great season.”

It wasn’t bad, Shoma thought. He had won silver most of the time, which was nothing out of the ordinary. “Thanks. You, too.”  And yes, that was an understatement. Nathan was beginning to change as a skater. He was relying more on his artistry, and with his clean jumps and endearing personality, he was quite the powerhouse. Shoma enjoyed watching him, and he was glad that the two were able to stay in league with each other.

“Yeah, it’s just–you’re so fast out there. And you look great in your costu–” Nathan cut himself off, already beginning to skate in the other direction. Shoma hadn’t even had time to react, and he turned to watch the younger man’s retreating form.

Nathan was quick to exit the rink, putting his guards on and awkwardly rushing to the bathroom. Shoma stood there, helplessly, moving only when Boyang grabbed onto his arm.

“I think he hates me,” Shoma admitted.

***

After hiding in the bathroom for a total of twenty minutes, effectively damaging the group’s choreography with his absence and disappointing Adam for his cowardice, Nathan finally emerged, grateful to see that only a few skaters were left on the rink. Most noticeably gone, of course, was Shoma. And Nathan felt bad that he had ruined the compliment with running away, but he knew for a fact that he was bound to chicken out sooner or later.

Maybe it was best that Shoma knew he was a human disaster now.

It was a little hard, knowing that he could get so close to making an actual human connection with Shoma and then realizing that he couldn’t follow through with saying how he felt. And it was a little painful, because if Nathan was just a human disaster, then Shoma was the epitome of gorgeous imperfections. He was a brilliant cacophany of strength and vulnerability, of disruption and calm. He conveyed all that on the ice, but in a normal setting, he seemed so different. Wonderful, still, but different.

And Nathan was unable to get past himself to take part in that wonder.

He sighed and grabbed his bag, putting everything away. If he were fortunate, he could make it back to his hotel room without anyone’s cornering him. He could ignore Vincent, who would undoubtedly be awake and reading and waiting to see what in the world was wrong this time, and he could go to bed and hope that everything worked itself out in the morning. Or–or, that Shoma Uno would decide to finally ignore Nathan forever, and they could both be rid of this horrible limbo of feelings. If Shoma had any at all.

That was the problem, too, that Nathan had no clue if even had a shot with Shoma. But he would never know if he never asked. But he could never find the courage to ask. Such was his paradox.

The pleasant “ding” of the elevator sounded more like a death sentence than anything else, but Nathan walked forward anyway. He knew that he was a bit of a disappointment to everyone, but he doubted that anyone was willing to mention the events of the day to him. If he were lucky, they would decide to leave him alone.

Nathan turned down the hallway, pausing when he saw someone waiting in front of his door. Please be Alex, please be–no, too short to be Alex. Adam, then? No. Oh, no.

Shoma was leaning against the wall, looking down at his phone. But he heard footsteps and glanced up, pocketing the device.

So here was the next predicament–Nathan could turn around now and truly define himself as a complete and utter coward. He could let Shoma off the hook very easily, let him know that there was no point in wasting time over someone who was too afraid to even walk to his own room.

Or he could keep walking, and he could at least attempt to say everything that he had been thinking the past few weeks–months–years. He could say what he felt, and then Shoma would be the one to have to decide what to do with that information.

Decision made, Nathan took in a deep breath to steady himself and made it to his door. He didn’t know how to start the conversation, but he said, “Hey.”

Without hesitating, Shoma asked, “Do you hate me?” He was normally a fairly blunt person, if not a bit reserved, so Nathan wasn’t surprised by the words, but the hesitant tone in Shoma’s voice was a bit jarring.

“What? I—no, of course not—“ Nathan quickly said, and he made a move forward.

“You keep avoiding me.”

“I’m not trying to—“

“You keep running away from me,” Shoma pointed out, tone evening out.

“I—“ Well, what could he say? Shoma was right. Nathan had been ridiculous and had spent the whole time avoiding someone that didn’t at all deserve it.

As if feeling that the conversation was never going to resolve itself, Shoma sighed. “I don’t know what I did, but I’d like to fix it.” He shuffled a bit, then nodded.

Nathan glanced down, noticing a small vase of flowers next to Shoma. People always left gifts for skaters, but the arrangement was pretty, and looked fairly expensive.

Shoma noticed them, as well, raising his eyebrows. He turned around, picking them up. “I wasn’t sure—when you tripped—and then you ran off—these are for you.” He held them out, and he didn’t look nervous, but Nathan certainly felt as much, and he hesitatingly reached out, taking them.

What could he say? That he had spent the last few days making a fool of himself all for the sake of impressing Shoma? And Shoma thought that he hated him, and had gotten him flowers to try to fix things?

What could he say—what could he think—that would make him seem better?

Not much, but—

“I like you,” Nathan blurted out, and he clutched the vase closer. It was almost a barrier between himself and Shoma. “I like you a lot, and you don’t deserve how I’ve been treating you.” Stop talking. “It’s just—I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you, and I couldn’t think of something. So I’ve been doing everything else.” Please stop talking. “But I’m just a wreck, and if you want to leave now—“

“Stop talking,” Shoma said, and Nathan froze. But then Shoma smiled, shaking his head. What did that mean? Was it acceptance, or was it pity? Derision? No, Shoma was too nice for that. “And stop thinking so much.” He took a step forward, pushing the vase aside slightly. “I like you, too.”

Blinking, and blinking some more because, what was happening, Nathan nodded, letting out a small sigh of relief. “Really? Are—are you sure? I’m kind of—“

“Please, stop,” Shoma repeated, and though he looked a little nervous, he leaned up to peck Nathan on the cheek. “But for what it’s worth, you’re kind of great.”

Nathan wasn’t sure if that was true or not, or whether he would ever believe Shoma entirely, but he felt pretty confident that he could get there. He smiled, anyway.

So, just breathe.

**Author's Note:**

> I have all my prompts posted on figure-skating-prompts.tumblr.com, but if you would like to suggest fics on there that should be here, let me know!


End file.
